Kenpachi's Tattoo
by Kracken l.w
Summary: Everyone knows he's got one, but what is it? And more importantly, where is it? Rated mostly to be on the safe side, given Kenchan's foul mouth and propensity for violence.
1. Chapter 1

_Kenpachi's Tattoo_

_By Kracken l.w._

Disclaimer: I do not own Bleach. At least not the anime/manga sort. I've got about three gallons of the chemical version under my sink, but that's legal. (sticks tongue out at lawyers)So there.

"Can you believe that man? He gets himself sliced nearly to pieces and all he's worried about is whether or not it missed his tattoo! Is Kenpachi-Taichou even human?" An older, undistinguished member of ninth division waiting in the front hall stifled a laugh as Vice-Captain Isane and her Captain walked by; Isane still complaining about a certain division's lack of priorities. How many times since that spiky haired menace took over the eleventh had he heard that question, in that tone of voice, followed by griping about the general conduct of that whole division? Oh well, it was one more anecdote to pass on to the new recruits when they got too cocky. "_If you think _you're _tough, wait till I tell you…"_

Nobody would have cared, in the general run of things, except for two points. The first reason that things got so out of hand was that the tension level in the Court of Pure Souls was skyrocketing as rumors of war spread like wildfire, and people were latching on to any possible distraction. Even that _might_ not have made much difference, since Kenpachi was a certified badass, and badass' do tend to have tattoos. Look at Renji for goodness' sake! But then some smart mouth from twelfth just had to point out that one: Psycho-man was supposed to fear needles more than death; and two, not one person outside his division or fourth had ever seen it. When that did not have the desired effect, the man then pointed out that when someone who hated needles got a tattoo, they were generally either drunk or otherwise unconscious, and the resulting tattoo too embarrassing for words. _That _got _everyone's _attention. What was it? More importantly, the gossipmongers wanted to know, _where _was it? There were just so many fascinating possibilities that as a distraction, it proved first rate. This was mainly because not one person in the entire court wanted to ask "Ken-chan" about it point blank.

The hair was prickling on the back of his neck again, and if whoever was staring at him this time wasn't cautious, he was going beat them bloody for distracting him all the time. "Ask him!" Someone hissed as he passed by. "Do I look stupid to you! You ask 'im!" He snarled in frustration, having heard this kind of thing all day; and whipped around to face a hallway full of his new recruits, reiatsu spiking sharply enough to make them all dizzy. "What in hell are you lot staring at!" Squeaks of "N-nothing, Captain Zaraki, sir!", punctuated by the thud of falling bodies, drifted down the hall. He snorted in disgust at the quivering victims of his latest flare of temper. " Che, fucking pansies. Strongest of your year and still a bunch o' wussies." Lips still quirked in a derisive sneer, the "Demon" of eleventh division stalked into his office and slammed the door shut behind him. It wasn't until the last vibrations of the slamming door had faded and the dust stopped falling from the rafters that any of them even dared to get up. "And you wanted me to ask that Thing about its tattoo? He probably would have ripped my head off!"

Sometime around the end of the second week, when Kenpachi had gone from yelling to punching whoever he caught staring at him through the nearest wall, someone finally got around to asking Madarame and Ayasegawa about it. If anyone in eleventh knew, surely it was those two! Well, them or Yachiru, but asking _her_ meant it would get back to the Demonic One for sure; and while they all wanted to know, no one thought the information worth dieing for…yet.

"Taichou's tattoo? What about it? Huh. 'S really his business, if ya ask me."

Ikkaku smirked as he watched the frustrated fifth seat of the division three stalk off in search of his eleventh division counterpart. Yumi, he knew, would be just as close-mouthed as himself on that subject; and in a far more irritating fashion. In the mean time he just sat back and enjoyed watching his Captain in action. An unholy terror with a sword, Captain Zaraki was no slouch at hand to hand either. That man had raised violence to an art form.

While Zaraki was getting grouchier by the second and breaking as many heads as he could get his hands on, the frazzled fifth seat was trying very hard not to scream because of his various preys' stubborn refusal to give him a straight answer. He had never expected it to be this difficult when what was left of his division bullied him into making the enquiries. So far he'd covered all of the eleventh's upper seated officers, and had even moved on to asking former members Renji and Iba when Yumichika turned out to be very unenlightening. The answers he got from them were much less helpful than Madarame's, if that was even possible. He pulled his list out of his pocket to see who was next.

List:

Vice Captain Kusajishi: Not available/napping.

Madarame: essentially "None of your business"

Ayasegawa: "The Captain's tattoo? A thing of beauty, I assure you! Where is it? On the captain, I should hope!" note to self, never speak to fruity bastard again. That sparkle thing was CREEPY!

Vice Captain Abarai: "Hell no! He'd kill me and use my skin for wall art!" Graphic and scary, not very helpful.

Vice Captain Iba: "I don't have a death wish, do you?" Not helpful.

Captain Unohana?

He sighed and trudged off towards the relief station, little knowing how soon he'd be visiting it again. When his fellow division members checked his pockets that night, they found the completed list. It read as follows:

Captain Unohana: "Zaraki-Taichou's tattoo? Which one? Oh, that one. Yes, he has more than one. No I will not. You would only get yourself hurt if I told you; and please don't bother trying to get it out of my subordinates. I've already ordered them to say nothing and their loyalty to me is such that you couldn't get it out of them if you were on your death bed." Yes! New Info! He has more than one!

Vice Captain Kotetsu: Wouldn't talk. Just stared. Shit. That means…

Captain Zaraki: Creator have mercy on my soul…

He must not have gotten very far with that one because about half an hour after leaving fourth division HQ he'd been found in an alley with all the symptoms of a close encounter of the Kenpachi kind. No one else wanted to get close enough to ask after that, and the List-Master really didn't want to admit that he hadn't been able to get up enough courage to ask before his steady gaze earned him a one way ticket into a stone wall. Really, though, as the next night proved, he had gotten off lightly. Stupid people with power can be an underling's worst nightmare, and third seats should really have more sense than to follow orders for a suicide mission that lacked their captain's signature.

Things were getting way out of hand, in General Yamamoto's opinion, when Captain Soi Fong had to report that her third seat, on the decidedly UN- approved orders of her vice captain, (Now also in sickbay) had had every bone in his body broken and lost a hand to boot. All in an ill considered attempt to find out the location of at least one tattoo by cutting off the back of Zaraki's shihakusho. He was third seat in second division after all; theoretically it should have been as easy as taking candy from a baby. Hah! When asked why he had been so very thorough in his maiming, Zaraki's only reply was to point first to Yachiru, still out cold on his shoulder after a long day's practice, and then to a gash in his captain's coat less than two centimeters from one small arm. Needless to say, Second division immediately declined to press the issue. The whole Seireitei knew that while he couldn't care less about (and might even enjoy) damage to himself, anyone who so much as scratched his little pink menace was soon to be painfully deceased. Most likely courtesy of Kenpachi's bare hands, and possibly even his teeth…

Pictures of the unfortunate third seat and his lieutenant immediately after Fourth arrived on the scene were sent to the academy; there to serve as… poignant … examples of the price of underestimating an opponent and the consequences of insubordination. You'd think such a vivid reminder of his wrath when provoked would have cooled people's desire to snoop, but that lasted for all of two days before they were back to staring and being beaten up for it. Yamamoto, who had a war to plan for and no patience for idle gossip, was getting heartily sick of the whole situation. He was especially tired of seeing variations of "Stared to long at 11th division Taichou." on each division's casualty reports at the end of the week. So he decided to call Kenpachi in for a rare one on one meeting to settle the question once and for all.

"Where are they and what are they?" For someone steeped in centuries of noble nonsense, Yamamoto could be surprisingly direct. "'Scuse me?" "Your tattoos, Captain Zaraki. The subject has caused more trouble and gossip in the court than your initial appointment to captain. I, for one, am sick and tired of tallying up the damage. Now, where are they?" Kenpachi's disturbingly pointy grin nearly split his face in two. "Is _that_ what all the starin's been about? Heh, they could've just asked me. 'Least then I wouldn't 've hit 'em. Probably wouldn't 've hit 'em, anyways…" Yamamoto snorted at that last bit and raised one hoary eyebrow at his subordinate in a questioning expression. "Well?" Kenpachi replied by rolling up his left sleeve until his shoulder was fully exposed. "The other one's on my back." "I see. Is it fit for public viewing?" Zaraki seemed to consider this for a moment, then looked up at his superior and deadpanned "Will I damage the first fucker to laugh at it?" The older man's eyebrows arced nearly to his nonexistent hairline; he kept forgetting that Kenpachi actually had a brain under all that hair. An illusion he was reasonably sure the man took sadistic pleasure in fostering, if only to scare the whey out of those poor saps who thought they could beat him by outthinking him. "Well then, since I am already calling a full assembly three days from now, this is what we'll do…"

Next up: A few revelations. Hope you all enjoyed this. Please review, flames will be used to grill my food.


	2. Company, Salute!

**Kenpachi's Tattoo: Company, Salute! He's What!**

_By Kracken l.w._

Disclaimer: Don't own it, Don't own it, Don't own it, **Don't own it! **There, is _THAT _clear enough for you?

Yamamoto stood looking out over a veritable sea of black with a thin white "foam" at what one might call the shore line of this figurative ocean. Screens on the walls to the right and left of his podium ensured everyone in the massive crowd a view of the speaker, the stage, and the small tactical screen hanging just behind him. The assembly hall in First Division's Admin. Building was just barely big enough to hold the eight thousand or so full squad members comfortably. When you added in a few hundred students from the academy, it rather resembled a can of sardines. The only people who weren't crowded were the Captains and their adjutants… mainly because most would rather die than jostle them. The ancient general sighed as he prepared to tell them just how grim their situation really was. Very soon now a crowded hall was going to seem an utter utopia; and yet were they to meet like this again… well, overcrowding wasn't likely to be a problem. When he had finished speaking, their reactions were all he could have possibly hoped for. First despair, and how not when they were so badly out manned? Then despair sifted to a sort of grim determination that reminded him why he was so proud of being a Shinigami. Time now to give them something else to think about; before useful determination became crippling fatalism.

"One further matter I would like to address, before you resume your duties. It has come to my attention that speculation into the private matters of one of our captains has led to an unprecedented amount of damage; to people as well as property." Faces turned to the first row where a spiky silhouette was notably absent. Ikkaku stood in his Taicho's place with his lieutenant on his shoulders; drawing gory pictures on his scalp with her crayons. " Now," He continued, his voice heavy with irony. " Normally I'd just tell you young'uns to mind your own bee's wax; but you lot are persistent and I want this done with. So _I_ asked him about it. Zaraki-Taicho, if you'd be so kind?" The entire crowd went silent in anticipation as Zaraki Kenpachi stalked out from behind a display screen to stand beside his commander. "You might as well show them, Kenpachi." The older man chuckled, "We'll get nothing of importance done until you do." Zaraki's only answer was a derisive snort. Faces fell in a comic display of disappointment as he turned towards the back only rise again as he abruptly shrugged out of both his Captain's coat and the upper half of his uniform. This left his entire back and (most importantly, to the busy bodies and gossipmongers.) the tattoo on his right shoulder blade in full view. The reactions of most people to the hand sized bouquet of pink daisies overlaid with the name "Yachiru" in black was fairly predictable. Their was stunned silence for about three seconds before most of the women went all sappy and a few idiot males snickered. Zaraki seemed not to hear them, and simply turned to expose his left shoulder where a black heart sat encompassing a red, fanged skull; crossed just under the skull were two swords. Above the entire design was the word 'I' and beneath it, the eleventh division insignia and motto. The snickering turned to outright laughter and the big man snapped to attention. "Eleventh division! Present Arms!" He snarled. Scattered throughout the crowd, six hundred odd left hand sleeves slid back as fists shot skyward. The Eleventh division, past and present, saluted their captain. Byakuya, rather irritated by the fact that Renji still had his, was composed enough to note that while the general form of the thing never changed, the hearts appeared to personalized. Take his own traitorous lieutenant for example: tastefully planned so as not to interfere with his previous ink, Renji's was more of a suggestion than anything else; a heart shaped emptiness surrounded by swirls of black. Ikkaku's was almost a copy of his captain's , except for having spears instead of swords. Yumichika was unashamedly sporting one in royal purple with "lace" edging; and Iba, looking rather sheepish under his Captain's offended glare… Were those _fox kits_? He closed his eyes for a moment in disbelief. He actually smiled though when he noticed one member of that pack of hoodlums who didn't have a tattoo: Yachiru. It seemed that thug ugly menace she called a father had _some _sense of propriety after all. Who ever would have thought it?

Kenpachi crossed his arms and looked out over the crowd; grinning at the ruckus he'd created. Then his grin turned nasty. "Right. I guess you all heard 'em laughin', huh?" Angry shouts thundered in from all sides. " I thought so. Not laughin' now, are they?" Hoots and jeers, a few threatening looks, and then… " When we get outside? **Get 'em**." Kenpachi grabbed his captain's coat and jumped off the stage to a chorus of whistles, howls, and cheers from his men. Yamamoto just shook his head and hoped the poor idiots had enough sense to run. He'd have liked to have stopped this; but the eleventh's captain could be as stubborn as any mule when he really wanted something. Besides, deep down he had to admit that he felt they deserved it. " Shinigami, Dismissed."

Later on, when the casualties had all been carted off to recover, Kyoraku, Hitsugaya, Zaraki, and Ukitake began the long walk back to their divisions. Just before the turn off towards the eighth division's precincts, something odd occurred to everyone's favorite drunken master. "Zaraki-san, every one was so interested because it was common that knowledge you hated needles…" He tapered off, as the tinkling of bells emphasized a curt: "Do not."

"Well, here's the thing, if it's not being shot full of tranquilizers, just what _does _Unohana-Taicho threaten you with? Or is that just a rumor too?" Kenpachi was scowling now, but it wasn't his usual threatening grimace. Instead he looked faintly…embarrassed. "'M t'lsh." He muttered. "What was that?" Now Ukitake wanted to hear it too. The scowl shifted more towards normal. "M TICKELISH." He gritted out between his teeth, glaring at the looks of shock and delight on the faces of his fellow captains. Then he dropped his head , looking utterly forlorn. "And she's faster 'n me…" He trailed off with a sigh. Hitsugaya snorted back a laugh, and he wasn't the only one. The rest of the walk was silent save for the occasional snicker and the answering growls.

Things one of my Betas feels I absolutely _must _clarify:

1. All words in tattoos are in kanji form.

2. Yes, I meant "Thug ugly", not "Pug ugly" . I have the feeling Kuchiki would find it far more offensive than the latter.

Please review. Oh, and by the way, Ken-Chan's hiding one more. If you really want to know what it is, you know what to do.


	3. Still Keeping Secrets

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Kenpachi's tattoo: Still keeping secrets. 

By Kracken l.w.

Disclaimer: The only thing here I own are the designs for the tattoos. Do I really need to go over this again? No? Good.

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Shunsui, Toushiro, Nanoa, and Rangiku had the privilege of being present the next week when Zaraki's yearly physical rolled around. The first any of them knew of it was when Kyoraku nearly tripped on a very gnawed looking rope just inside the relief station door. Only then did their ears register the remarkable string of profanity issuing from the hall to their right. Parallel gouges in the wood led directly back to the eleventh division captain-- whose nails had left the floor and were now firmly embedded in the door frame. "Come now, Zaraki-Taicho, you know this is necessary. It's the law and the Captain General gave you a direct order." There followed a short dissertation on what Central 46 and the old man could do to one another. "Really, Zaraki-san, you should how more respect for your elders." Unohana sounded incredibly patient, as if she'd heard it all before. (Come to think of it, they _knew_ she had.) She tugged gently on the back of his uniform. "If you'd just come along now…" No such luck. He had his large frame wedged firmly in the door and he wasn't budging. 

Just when the others were starting to think he might actually win this round, a pair of slim white hands appeared on either side of him and began to dance their way along his rib cage. The visible eye widened as he tensed against the assault and actually began to shake with the effort it took not to cave. "Fuckin' cheater." He rasped. Her hands were moving upwards and strangled laughter burst into breathless giggles. This was all too disturbing for words. Zaraki Kenpachi, _giggling_? Right about then she reached his armpits; and it was all over. He let out a piercing yelp and dropped his hands to defend himself… Just as Unohana kicked the back of one knee and dragged him in, slamming the door shut behind them. For a short while the battle raged on, clearly audible through the walls. "No! Your hands are cold!" A gentle murmur with a hint of menace followed. "Don't _care_! I'm not gonna….Ahh! No!" Followed by gales of helpless laughter as the healer subdued her patient.

"Well." Kyoraku blinked. "That was, very odd." He shook his head and pulled his hat down over his eyes. "Nanao-chan," "Taicho?" "I'm going to get a drink." His usually strict vice-captain shot a wary glance at the door and grimaced. "I'll join you sir." Hitsugaya and Matsumoto were left sitting on the bench in an increasingly uncomfortable silence. "Matsumoto." "Sir?" "We will _never_ speak of this again." "Yes sir!" While Matsumoto loved gossip just as much as the next shinigami, she didn't plan on dying again for five or six decades at least, if she could possibly help it. Telling the world the Kenpachi was ticklish was suicide. Kind of like mentioning Taicho's blankie…

Meanwhile, having declared him healthy and able to work for another year, Unohana watched while Zaraki got dressed, noting in passing a few minor scars that hadn't been there last year. She inwardly rolled her eyes at his infuriating habit of avoiding healing. She couldn't help but smile as the thought of last weeks assembly, where he'd probably gotten those, crossed her mind. She knew very well he hadn't been entirely honest with their commander. She was only surprised he hadn't taken the opportunity presented to offend just about everyone in Seireitei in one fell swoop! Her eyes dropped downward as she chuckled to herself. Starting at the small of his back and blazoned across his rear end were the words:

Bow down

**& BITE MY ASS!**

**End.**

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Author: Quick question Zaraki, why _did_ you waste such a golden opportunity? You technically had Yamamoto's orders to moon the entire Gotei Thirteen! 

Z.: Yeah, I know. But Yachiru has this habit of doing whatever I do, so….

Author: Damn. That bites.

Z.: Ya can say that again.

Review please. Or I'll give them all enough alcohol to sink a ship and send them to _your _house.


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